


Broken Frame

by DennisCrumb



Category: Glass (2019), Split (2016), Unbreakable (2000)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Angst, Conspiracy Theories, Drama
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-13 01:08:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17478413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DennisCrumb/pseuds/DennisCrumb
Summary: An unexpected team-up happens. Mysteries are revealed. Danger is around every corner. In which Joseph, Casey, and Mrs. Price uncover a secret organization while trying to help their loved ones.





	Broken Frame

The words of Dr. Staple linger uneasily in Casey’s shadow as she descends the steps of Raven Hill. She  _knows_  what she saw when the Beast had emerged that night at the zoo, despite the psychiastrist’s determination to sum up his abilities as mere delusion. Even when Casey hadn’t wanted to believe it herself at the time, her eyes would not deceive her. 

She’s always considered herself practical. The strange and unusal has never been entertained in her rationalistic worldview. Dwelling in what-ifs or the supernatural was unreasonable. She was a realist, any light of hope and dreams had been snuffed out with John. Until she saw the Beast.

He is real. That is the truth. Casey was certain of it in the same way she knew the sky to be blue.

If it wasn’t for the Beast’s speech about the broken she never would have confessed about her uncle and put him away. She’s had three weeks to mull over a seemingly normal looking man wall climbing and bending iron bars. She feels conflicted over a lot of things concerning the people who inhabit Kevin’s body, of what the Horde had done.

Belief in the Beast wasn’t one of those feelings.

In an twisted, grey area sort of sense, he was her saviour as much as former captor. The catalyst that gave her the will to _live_ instead of just surviving. A chance at happiness.

Now she was going to be there for Kevin – for all of them. People like them who’ve suffered so terribly can’t get along by themselves. They need compassion, understanding, and friendship. Casey’s got that now with her new family thanks to them, it’s the least she can do in return.

If that makes her crazy…well, she’s been called worse.

“Casey Cooke…” Mrs. Price calls out from behind her.

Ending her call for a taxi, Casey tucks her phone away as the woman approaches her. "Yes?"

Mrs. Price's smile is sweet enough in passing glance, but there’s something sharp and smart in her eyes Casey notices. Intent.

“I couldn’t help but notice the fervor in which you addressed Dr. Staple about superheroes and comics,” Mrs. Price tells her. “Do you read them?”

Casey shrugs and looks out towards the stretch of green between two roads leading out of the hospital. Joseph dawdles ahead of them by his van. No doubt listening in with curiousity. Perhaps with even a little loneliness as well. This ordeal wasn't easy for her, she can't imagine what he must be going through with his father.

The loved ones of an anarchist, the brains, and the reluctant hero. All connected. Trying their best to handle seeing their families and friend locked inside of a mental institution, and dealing with the confusion and pain of grieving alone. Mrs. Price has done it alone for nineteen years, Casey knows this because they cover it and people like him in a brief section in modern history.

Why alone?

Steeling herself, Casey decides to be as honest to Mrs. Price as she was with the doctor. “I know enough about comics. It’s hard to escape them, especially at school. And I know what I saw.” She speaks firmly. “Science…and brain scans…and therapy sessions won’t change my mind. _It was real_.”

Mrs. Price nods, seemingly pleased, and turns to Joseph whose still standing in the same spot a few feet away. “What do you think?”

Joseph heaves a shuddering breath, walks up to them with uncertain steps. “I don’t know anymore. Dr. Staple brought up some good points.”

“So did Casey,” Mrs. Price points out, watching the girl with interest for the second time that day. “I know this may seem odd considering our connections with one another, but would either of you like a cup of coffee?”

 

* * *

 

Casey looks on in awed wonder at the numerous framed pieces of art lining the walls of Mrs. Price's apartment. "You have a nice place."

Mrs. Price makes a noise of agreement, looking proudly at the various depictions of super powered beings displayed everywhere. "I haven't moved since I brought Elijah home from the hospital."

The art wasn't just on the pastel colored purple walls. But on bookshelves in the form of slim comics and thick graphic novels. It was on the counters and shelves as collectible statues and related knick knacks, including the many accessories that come with them. 

The oval shaped room resembles a museum for pop culture enthusiasts and history buffs, as much as it does the cozy home of an older woman living alone. The warm scent of vanilla and freshly ground coffee beans fill the room. A grandfather clocks ticks in the hall, as calm and soothing as the metronome in the therapist's office Casey saw during John's trial.

“You know a lot about comics?” Joseph ventures, cupping a mug of coffee between his hands. Like a barrier between him and the small, older woman who smiles at him across the table.

Mrs. Price smile widens, as if she'd knew Joseph would ask her that. "I'm what you would call a faithful fan, yes."

One would have to come to that conclusion, Casey thinks, which is better than the woman keeping her deranged, terrorist son's memorabilia up for two decades. Then again, Casey also has her own memento of what everyone would call a horrific event, her beige zoo jacket hanging on the bedpost back home.

An awkward tension hangs in the air between the three sitting at the kitchen table, most (if not all) on Joseph's part. 

"You...read them?" Joseph asks increduously.

Casey senses she was intruding on a private, sensitive topic; an old and festering wound brought about by their loved ones. With a small smile, she softly excuses herself to peruse the bookshelves.

Mrs. Price arches a brow at Joseph. A short, bark of laughter escapes her. “I'm guessing your father didn't tell you the extent of Elijah's obsession."

"I remember him owning the shop, and the conversation he had with my dad. I remember the news of his arrest. My dad didn't like talking about it...he'd talk about others but rarely ever mentioned your son."

"Well, who do you think Elijah spoke to for hours, day after day, breaking down comic books and their lore? Who do you think gave him his very first one?”

Joseph leans back in his chair, letting that information sink in. "I believed him, you know. I never understood why my dad didn't until all was said and done. A hero's origin story, Superman turned out to be my father."

"So basically Elijah's thesis lay here," Casey adds while waving around one of the comics. "He based his entire ideology on these."

Mrs. Price takes a sip of her coffee. “Elijah didn’t go out much unless I gave him incentive with a new story." Mrs. Price explains with a sombre fondness. "He had no friends. Just me and the endless, fantastical tales he found safety and eventually truth in.”

“It’s  **because**  of those stories that he went on to kill countless people in real life,” Joseph says heatedly. He looks down the moment the words leave his mouth. He squeezes his eyes shut, immediately regretting lashing out at her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to–"

“That’s okay,” Mrs. Price soothingly assures him, patting his hand. “I’ve had the conversation with myself many times over the years. Always feeling like I’m going in circles trying to put together the right... _plot points_  of his making. I was definitely the starting point to it...”

Joseph looks back at her, features tight as he tries to hold together his anguish over their joined situation. "I don’t mean to be abrupt Mrs. Price, but why have you brought us here?”

"Well...I trust this doctor about as far as I can throw her," she confesses in a low, conspiratorial voice. "In all the nineteen years Elijah has been there,  _now_  they want him to be evaluated and undergo surgery for his so called delusions. And in three days, no less. Not just for him but your people too. That's an awfully quick time to decide they're lost causes."

Casey's taken a seat in the corner, a stack of open comics in her laps. "You kept all these..." She holds one up and Mrs. Price nods. "You've read them," she surmises. "Why? Do you believe what your son has all these years?" It's the only reason Casey can come up with to why Mrs. Price hasn't boxed them up. Some of these comics published are older than her son, she pictures him in the same spot she's in reading them.

"And I keep up to date on all of them as well." Mrs. Price stands and goes to her counter, grabbing even more comics which she sets on the kitchen table. "What you said you read wasn't a coincidence, and it isn't isolated," she tells Casey.

"What do you mean." Casey's gaze follows the set of comics plopped onto the table, hopeful.

Joseph shakes his head, runs a hand through his hair. "Okay...this is...too much. Even for me and what I've seen." He stands, chair wobbling in his haste and nearly knocking into Casey whose coming up behind him.

Grabbing the top comic, Casey flips through the pages but finds nothing mirroring her experience with the Beast or the Horde.

Joseph stops her at one point, bringing his hand down against a page's corner.

One scene takes up the entire page. Set at night with the moon high and heavy rain coming down. In it, there's a masked man wearing an oversized cape, struggling to get out of a lake with the help of a crowd of teens.

Casey regards Joseph's stunned face with a callback to her own shock at seeing images eerily similar to the Beast. "What do you see?"

"It _is_ just a coincidence," Joseph murmurs, backing away. "That's all."

Mrs. Price's face is smug. "You don't sound too convinced." She spreads the works out. "That man there has a whole series about him, spanning  _just_  about nineteen years. How many coincidences do we need before the picture begins to look a little distorted?"

"You think these stories tie into what they can do?" Casey guesses. "And how we can help them?"

"Art has always been a reflection of real life events," Mrs. Price says. "Elijah has always believed that comics are the last link to the past history of people like himself and your father," she says with a pointed look at Joseph before turning to Casey. "And your friend."

"My dad hasn't picked up a comic since Elijah was put on trial," Joseph says. "He's never needed after Elijah. How can they help him now?"

"None of the Horde or the Beast mentioned comics," Casey adds, frowning slightly. "Not once before all of this."

Mrs. Price extends her hands as if to say– _see?_ "Yet here we are talking about them, and there we were in Dr. Staple's office where it appears to be the focus of treatment to your father and friend. Where you can read through one of those stories and see startling similarities to your own lives, it has to do with **everything**."

Joseph collapses back in his chair as a thoughtful silence falls between them, heavy as the dozens of comics piled through the home.

For Casey, it finally sinks in that there are people out there other than Kevin who have these abilities. People who might be a danger to others or even themselves, but also have someone to fight for them.

"I think what you're implying goes _beyond_ my dad fighting local crime." Joseph makes a noise between a scoff and a laugh, shaking his head at the sheer absurdity.

"And yet you can't argue that it is illogical to believe there is a larger power at play here," Mrs. Price continues with confidence. "In comics they have secret societies such as the Court of Owls and the Illuminati. They makes laws like the Superhero Regristration Act and commit genocides against super powered beings. Secret wars and societies, discrimination and laws...they've _always_ existed in these stories."

"And comics are just a telling of history passed," Joseph grimly says, bringing her theory back to the beginning.

Mrs. Price places a hand on his shoulder. "I know it may be a lot for you, but you had to believe it once," she tries to reason. "I'm not just asking you to take in what you've seen your father do, but to expand your beliefs based upon it to something broader than him."

Casey wraps her arms around herself, a creeping feeling casts over her. "I want to help Kevin," she says. "I don't know if this is the best way or trying to discredit what he's capable of."

"Denying it will only hurt him," Mrs. Price says. "Deep down I think you know this, or else you wouldn't have brought up a fictional character to his psychiatrist."

Casey looks at her, then at Joseph. Knowing they've stumbled upon something that should not be real, and yet.... "What do we do next?"

Joseph picks up the comic that had earlier stunned him, his face now set with determination. He has nowhere or no one else to turn. Finally, he's decided. "I'll look up the doctor and see what I can find on her. And I'll dig into these comics a bit more."

Casey nods, feeling encouraged now that a plan was forming. "I'll give you the name of the one I read too."

"We have to hurry if we want to help them," Mrs. Price says. "We don't have a lot of time."

**Author's Note:**

> I really thought we were going to see Joseph, Casey, and Mrs. Price team up and do some detective work. I was excited for it snd I could've sworn it was said in an interview. So now I'm writing out my dreams for that and giving my own little twist to the ending of Glass which I thought was fitting. But this is fic and I'm here to play with my own ideas! Hope you guys enjoy x.


End file.
